Hit Man
by ObrienLover24
Summary: Stiles is a trained hit man. He is hired by a man to kill a girl for him. When he goes to do his 'job' he finds out that the girl is Lydia Martin, his ex-girlfriend.
1. Job

Stiles stepped into the warehouse that he had just tracked his target run into. He had been hired by his wife to kill him – he had cheated on her or something like that. Stiles never really listened when his clients explained their reasons for hiring him. All he cared about was getting paid.

Hearing a small groan coming from behind a metal canister, Stiles knew that the poison he had added to his knife was now taking effect. He slowly strolled over to the canister, leaning his elbow on it as he peered his head around it and smiled at the man with fake sympathy; he always told himself that the ones he killed deserved it and that they were bad people. How else would he stay sane?

He watched as he guy involuntarily jerked his muscles and fell onto his back, gasping for breath as the air was sucked out of his lungs by the poison. A stab on sadness echoed though him as he watched him slowly dying; he didn't enjoy him job, it was a last resort. His family history had made it so that no sane person would ever hire him to work anywhere.

As his victims face turned purple, he made the decision to end his suffering. Stiles knelt down beside him and slid his blade into his temple, killing him instantly.

Stiles drove straight to the bar that he had met the poor bastard's wife in; it was pay time. When he finally arrived, he headed straight behind the building like they had planned. The woman was already stood there, a guilty expression plastered on her face that Stiles was so used to seeing. Stiles stopped directly in front of the woman and nodded, confirming that he had finished the 'deed'. She sighed a guilty and relieved sigh and pulled a plastic bag out of her pocket, handing it to him with her mouth set in a grim line.

Taking the bag, he turned and sauntered away from the woman without saying a word – he knew that if he stayed, he would most likely be met with excuses of how this didn't make her a bad person… blah blah blah. Instead, Stiles got back into his Jeep and rode towards his 'home' without sparing the wife a second glance.

Stiles pulled up outside the block of flats that he momentarily slept in and heading inside. He keyed himself into his flat and went straight to the loose floorboard and placed his 'equipment' back into its rightful place, along with the money. He then placed the floorboard back down and shook off his shirt and jeans. Rubbing his eyes, he fell onto the mattress lying in the corner of the room and immediately fell into a coma-like sleep.

The sun awoke him the next morning, shining through the window and into his eyes. Stiles ran his fingers through his hair, sitting up and taking a moment to wake up properly. Eventually, he stood up and stumbled into his bathroom and then into the shower.

Two hours later, Stiles was showered, dressed and sitting in his favourite café with a latte stood on his table. He took a huge gulp, letting the caffeine wake up his tired body. Hearing footsteps, her turns to see a guy about his age slumping down into the chair opposite him on his table.

"Can I help you?" Stiles queried, raising his eyebrows at the man intruding on his personal time – which he didn't get much of.

"Yeah, you can", the man replies, smiling and tilting his head in a way that would have made anybody else intimidated; Stiles just found it irritating.

"What can I do for you?" Stiles smiled fakely, sipping his latte again.

"I want you to kill someone for me." He answered, making Stiles choke on his drink and check around to make sure nobody was listening.

"Excuse me?" he folded his arms and shot him a warning look that should have sent him running. Instead, he kept his creepy smile and tilted head.

"I want the job done before 8:00pm tonight. If you complete the job, there's two hundred grand in it for you." The guy explained. Stiles eyed him up, deciding whether he was a cop – he had 'clients' in the past who had turned out to be cops trying to bust him for murders. Since that had started, he had been a lot more secretive about what he did for a living.

The guy slid a piece of paper over the table towards him and then continued to speak, "However, if you fail to complete the job, I'll have to do it myself… and I'll take _you_ down with her." He added, crossing his arms in a 'that's final' kind of way.

Stiles turned over the piece of paper. On it, an address was written. He stayed silent for a few while, deciding whether or not to trust this kid – he looked shifty as hell but he seemed to be being honest with him.

Finally deciding, he nodded and shoved the paper into his jacket pocket. He checked the time '11:56am'. "Meet me here tomorrow morning with my payment." He said standing up and starting to walk away; if the guy wanted it done by 8:00pm tonight, he would have to start preparing now.


	2. Realisation

Stiles waited until 6:30pm before he walked over to the address given to him – he didn't want his car outside to make him a suspect.

Geared up and ready, he stalked around to the back of the small house to examine his possible entries. Once he had eyed up a slightly ajar window, he pulled his black gloves over his slim fingers and quietly lifted the window upwards until the gap was big enough for him to slip through. In one quick and smooth movement, he was inside the building.

The interior of the home couldn't be seen in the pitch black darkness. Squinting, Stiles tiptoed towards the light coming from through archway that led into another room. A small lamp was enough to light up what must have been a lounge. Stiles quickly took in his surrounding, making connections to decide which of the white doors would most likely lead to the bedroom; he could wait until the victim went in there and then kill them.

Trying to logically plan it out, Stiles decided on the nearest door on the right. He slowly stepped over to the door and slightly creaked it open, just enough to peer through, Jackpot.

A bed stood inside with a lump bulging from under the duvet. For some reason, someone was sleeping at 6:30pm. Stiles dug into his pocket, gripping the syringe containing a little homemade toxin that would make her death look like a heart attack. The floorboards cringingly creaked as Stiles attempted to be silent, approaching the lump like a lion about to take down a gazelle.

Stiles' hand gripped tighter on the syringe as he gently pulled the duvet down just enough to get to a suitable injecting point. He stopped dead, staring in horror at the girl who lay sleeping in front of him; it was his ex-girlfriend.

"Lydia?" he muttered to himself. He must have said it louder than he thought, because the girl jolted awake.

Stiles watched her eyes widen and her skin drain its colour. She then let out a spine chilling scream, making Stiles cringe as the noise filled his eardrums. He quickly shoved his palm over her mouth, quieting her.

"Lydia shut up!" he winced, hoping that no neighbours had heard her scream. He noticed her eyes turn from scared to relieved and then to angry within the space of a minute. Now that she had stopped screaming completely, he finally released his hand from her face.

"What the hell are you doing in my house?" Lydia shouted, exasperatedly flinging her arms up by the side of her.

"Lydia what the hell did you do?" Stiles yelled back, trying to think of any possible reason someone would want him to kill Lydia. Did someone else live here with her that it could be instead?

"What are you talking about?" Lydia screeched, becoming angrier with the lack of explanation for him being in her room.

"Why the hell are you sleeping?" Stiles questioned, his curiosity taking over from his job, even though he should be focused.

"I had a headache!" Lydia wiped over her face with her hands in an annoyed and impatient attitude.

With his curiosity now satisfied, Stiles went back to the questions, "Why the hell are you on a freakin hit list?"

"What?" She furrowed her eyebrows, her confusion taking over her anger.

"I'm a hit man. I was hired you take you out", Stiles explained impatiently; he just wanted a reason why someone might want to kill her.

Lydia gave him a resentful, enraged glare that made his body tense, "Stiles I'm being serious, what the _hell_ are you doing here?" she snarled, balling her hands into tiny fists.

"So am I!" he replied, holding up the syringe he was about to inject her with, "I was about to kill you with this", he explained calmly.

Stiles watched Lydia spend a few seconds examining the syringes brown liquid, obviously quickly coming to the decision that he is telling the truth. She lets out another deafening scream, flying out of bed and pushing past him towards the front door.

Stiles groaned loudly and sprinted after her, managing to grab hold of her wrist before she could get to the handle. He wrapped his arm around her body and pulled her backwards, in the direction he thought he remembered the kitchen being.

About half an hour of wriggling and struggling later, he finally had her tied down to a chair in the middle of the kitchen. She was sobbing loudly and begging for her life.

Stiles sighed loudly; trying to show her that he was now irritated. She clearly picked up his message, becoming silent other than her soft involuntary gulps of tears.

"Who else lives here?" Stiles asked, staring at the wall and rubbing his chin in deep thought.

"My b-boyfriend", she stuttered back, lines of mascara now starting to streak her pink cheeks.

Stiles thought about her answer. The guy who hired him had said 'she' so it couldn't be him. It had to be Lydia that he wanted dead.

"Why would someone want to kill you?" Stiles repeated with a hint of warning in his voice as he turned to look at her.

"I don't know!" Lydia bellowed back at him, visibly wincing at her outburst in instant regret – she would most likely want to stay on his good side.

"You must have done something!" Stiles roared, banging on the table in frustration. He noticed her whole body start to shake and he actually felt kind of bad about it.

Suddenly, the rattling sound of a key in a door echoed through the house. Both Stiles and Lydia froze in panic. Reacting quickly, Stiles seized a knife from a draw in the kitchen and sliced through Lydia's ties. He then rapidly wiped the make-up lines off Lydia's cheeks – they were signs of her being in distress.

Placing the knife back on the kitchen side, he madly slid over to a tall cupboard in the corner of the room. Before he shut himself inside, he shot Lydia a warning glare to tell her not to say anything. He waited for her to nod and then he shut himself in the cramped space of what was now revealed to be a shoe cupboard.

Stiles peered through shutters that were eye level with him in the door. He observed Lydia as she pretended to be washing something in the sink. A tall man, whose face Stiles could not yet see, entered the kitchen.

"Lydia?" a surprised voice called out. Something about the voice was unbelievably recognisable to Stiles, but he pushed it to the back of his mind – he had more important things to worry about, like not getting caught.

Stiles noted Lydia's great acting skills as she pretending to be happy to see him and insisted that everything was fine. The man, obviously Lydia's boyfriend, told her to go and sit in the lounge and wait for him.

"I'll bring you a drink", he insisted, ignoring her excuses as he steered her out of the room. Lydia finally agreed, sparing one more worried glance at the cupboard that Stiles stood in, and walked into the lounge.

As the man stepped towards the sink, Stiles could finally see his face. Realisation hit him as to why he recognised his voice – it was the guy who had hired him. It was the guy who wanted Lydia dead.


	3. Stabbed

Stiles' heart stopped beating – this was the guy who had hired him to kill his ex-girlfriend.

As he watched the man aggressively pull out his phone and starts tapping out a number, Stiles tried to piece together any possible reasons he would want to kill her.

Suddenly, his phone started to buzz inside his pocket and the realisation hit him – he was calling him. He thrust his hand into the pocket and quickly answered the call; if he declined it, the guy would most likely call again and make more noise.

"Now listen here, I told you if she wasn't gone by 8:00pm tonight I would end you both myself. Don't think that part of the deal is off!" he whispered harshly through the mobile, his face scrunched up in anger. The man hung up the phone and stormed over to the kitchen side, grabbing the knife that Stiles had laid there and waltzing towards the room in which Lydia sat.

Stiles could see the top of Lydia's head facing the blank TV screen as she awaited her boyfriend's arrival. His heart started thumping rapidly inside his chest. It wasn't because he was scared for himself, he was just now piecing together that the man was heading to go and kill Lydia.

Making a snap decision, Stiles creaked out of the cupboard he was hidden in and reached into his jeans pocket for the syringe he had shoved back in there after Lydia had made a run for it. Noticing his 'boss' lifting the knife up high to dig into Lydia's skull, he sprinted forward until he crashed into him. They both went flying onto the ground with a loud bang and Stiles struggled to keep him pinned while he pulled the cap off the syringe with his teeth.

"Jackson!" Lydia screeched, obviously thinking that Stiles had started this for no reason. It didn't matter; Stiles could explain himself after 'Jackson' was dead.

Just as he was about to dig the sharp weapon into Jacksons neck, Stiles felt a hard thump in his side, making him topple over. The syringe went flying out his hand, smashing into smithereens on the wall. Stiles jerked his head towards Jackson, only to see Lydia trying to help his stand on his feet again.

"Lydia stop, I'm trying to help _you!"_ Stiles yelled in frustration, jumping back onto his feet. Jackson, now stood back up, picked up the knife from the wooden floor and turned back to Lydia, the expression on his face telling her what was about to happen.

She looked hurt and confused as she backed away from her 'boyfriend', "Jackson, what are you doing?" she questioned, her eyes begging him to stop, he didn't.

Stiles ran at full speed towards them without even thinking about the consequences – he didn't quite know why he was risking his life for his ex, but he did it anyway.

As he approached, he slowed down to allow himself to be able to make a grab for the knife. Just inches behind Jackson's heels, he launched his right arm towards the blade, grasping at it with his hands but missing as his 'hirer' dodged his attempt and pulled the knife downwards.

The metal jabbed into Stiles' torso, sucking out his breath and making him collapse to the hard, cold floor. His vision went blurry and his hearing turned muffled as the pain seared through his body. Hearing a swathed smack, he forced himself to lift his head towards the sound.

Lydia had picked up a lamp from her coffee table and smashed it over Jackson's head. The force wasn't enough to knock him unconscious - however it did stun him enough to make him run towards the exit.

Stiles' world went black for what felt like seconds but when he opened his eyes, he was lay on the sofa instead of the floor. A trail of blood wiped from where he was fought, to the sofa he was now on. Stiles turned his head and jumped in shock as Lydia's face was suddenly directly above his head. She had a worried glare as she roamed her eyes down to his puncture.

"It's not that bad, I promise," he lied – Jackson had hit him right in an artery, meaning it was either an accident or he knew what he was doing.

"I didn't know what to do… I didn't think people like you would go to a hospital", Lydia spoke quickly, clearly scared out of her mind.

"You thought right. I have a place I go for this kind of thing", Stiles explained, pressing hard on the bleeding hole.

"You have your own hospital?" Lydia asked, backing away from him as he tried to sit up and then coming forward again to help him.

"Of sorts… More like a person I go to", Stiles winced as pain shot through his body like a dagger.

"So, my… Jackson hired you to kill me?" Lydia changed the subject as she pulled Stiles to his feet and wrapped her arm around him, supporting his weight.

"Yeah. He seems really nice by the way, definitely an improvement from me!" Stiles smiled sarcastically. He heard her make an exasperated noise but she stayed silent and helped him out of her house.

"Where is this person of yours?" she asked, opening the passenger side of her blue car and pushing his inside. Stiles groaned loudly as the stab wound ripped wider from the movement. He heard Lydia gasp as she entered the driver's and when he followed her eyes to his stomach, he saw a small fountain of blood was starting to spew out of the gash.

"Lydia, start the car. I think we might need to hurry", Stiles told her, feeling fatigue wash over his body as the engine roared and the car came to life.

Twenty minutes of directions and yelling's at him not to pass out later, they were finally outside Scott's house – Scott was, and still is, his best friend. He is also training to be a doctor and is the guy who stitches him up when a job goes south.

"Take me to the door", Stiles felt sleep wash over him, but he forced himself to stay awake. He followed Lydia with his eyes as she speedily walked around the car and opened his door. He relaxed and let her pull him out of the car, almost falling down as his feet hit the gravel.

Droplets of blood littered the perfectly clean door mat as they waited for a response to their knocking. Stiles heard Lydia's breath quicken and he tried to reassure her but he had no energy to speak. Suddenly, the door swung open and the aroma of pizza wavered outside. A smiling Scott stood in the doorway. The smile dropped off Scott's face as he took in the blood and the paleness of Stiles' skin.

Without asking questions, he beckoned the two inside and closed the door behind them. Stiles watched Scott push papers and cups off his table and he rushed over to help Lydia get him onto it. His hearing started to muffle out and his vision was fading. He heard some brief medical mutters and then he let unconsciousness take over him.


	4. Explanation

_Thank you so much for sticking with it this far, I really hope you like it! This chapter is more of what I call an 'explanatory filler'. The next chapter will be good though! Feel free to tell me what you think, thank you!_

Stiles fluttered his eyes open after what felt like hours of dark, empty sleep. Pain washed over his body – Stiles had learned many times that Scott didn't have any anaesthetic, which is why he usually tried to pass out before Scott's 'treatment' started. His head felt groggy and he could hear muffled talking from across the room.

"So people just pay him to kill other people for them?" he heard Lydia's voice ask.

"Pretty much", Scott replied to her. It was obvious by the bored tone in his voice that she had been asking him questions about Stiles' 'profession' for a while.

"How often does he end up… like this?" Lydia sounded shocked to know that Scott didn't try to stop his lifestyle. She didn't know that he had tried, many times – Stiles couldn't stop what he did; his mother's side of the family made sure of that.

Stiles' mother, Claudia, and the rest of her close family had been part of a group. A kind of group that killed people for a living, just like Stiles. The police had eventually found out their identities and arrested them, putting most of them to a death sentence and making it so that no employer would take on another Stilinski ever again. Stiles' father had still managed to become the sheriff of a neighbouring town where nobody knew of his family history.

Without giving Scott a chance to answer Lydia's question, he forced himself to sit up, "You know, you could have just asked me yourself." Stiles winked teasingly at Lydia, knowing the reaction he would get out of her.

Lydia huffed an irritated sigh, but still walked over to him to examine him. "Fine, why don't you start with why you didn't kill me?" Lydia traced her fingers over the new bandage on his torso, not making eye contact with him.

"Would you rather I killed you?" Stiles smirked, batting her hand away so he could attempt to stand up.

"You're going to kill _yourself_!" Lydia moaned, pushing him back onto the table, "Sit down!"

"Alright woman!" Stiles whinged, "And you can shut up!" he jerked his head towards the giggling coming from Scott in the background.

Scott walked out of the room and into his kitchen, throwing his hands in the air in 'innocence'. Stiles turned back to Lydia, who was still examining the bandage.

"Lydia, I'm fine. Don't worry!" he rolled his eyes, but smiled to reassure her. She smiled back, visibly relaxing as she sat back in the chair nearest to her around the table.

"Why do you do it?" she asked softly, looking at him with gentle eyes, "Why do you kill people?"

"I have to. My mom", he started but was interrupted abruptly.

"I dated you Stiles. I know about your mom's family, that's not what I mean", Lydia now had a serious expression.

"Then what do you mean?" Stiles questioned, confusion showing in his tone of voice.

"Your dad is a sheriff in another county. Why don't you just move like he did, start fresh?" Lydia squinted her eyes like he used to do in math class – showing that she was really confused and had no idea.

"Memories I guess", Stiles shrugged off the question, not really knowing the answer himself. It had occurred to him that he could leave, more than once. However, he never did.

"So what started off this 'hit man' thing?" Lydia sat forward, intrigued to know the answer, "You weren't like this when I was with you", Stiles couldn't help but smile to himself at how comfortable she was around him, even though he had originally gone to kill her.

"My mom used to give me fighting lessons when I was a kid, that's where the training came from", he replied, fidgeting his hands awkwardly.

"No, I meant how did you decide to start killing people for money?" Lydia cut in. Stiles had known what she had meant – he just didn't want to tell her the truth.

"You can tell me", Lydia placed her hand on his arm to tell him that she could be trusted with his 'secret'.

"You." Stiles replied bluntly, being careful not to look at her face in fear of her reaction.

"What about me?" she pushed, not taking her hand off of his arm.

"I took the break up hard, okay?" he shot at her harshly; he felt awkward and embarrassed about it.

"You started this because we broke up?" Lydia took her hand away from his arm and he could feel her stare on the side of his face. He simply shrugged and continued to avoid her with his gaze. "Stiles", she continued when he didn't answer her.

"It wasn't just that we broke up. It was the fact you dumped me for someone else", Stiles explained, finally looking at her face but avoiding her eyes. "I just felt like you were saying I wasn't good enough, you know?"

Lydia opened her mouth to speak but not word came out, so he continued. "My whole life I've been told that I'm not good enough and on top of that, I will never get a job here no matter how good of a person I am!" he told her, slightly louder and sharper than he had meant too, "You leaving me for some guy, I'm guessing the one who tried to kill you earlier, just destroyed me. The only alternative I could think of was this", he gestured to the stab wound and breathed out a humourless laugh.

"Stiles…" Lydia started, but was interrupted by the sound of a phone ringing – Stiles' phone. Sighing, he plucked the phone out of his jeans pocket and looked at the caller ID, 'Unknown Caller'.

Stiles groaned slightly as he hit the 'answer' button and lifted the device up to his ear.

"Yes?" he barked impatiently; he wasn't in the mood right now, especially if it was a sales call!

"So you _are_ still alive?" a smirking voice sounded from the other end of the line. Stiles' heart thudded louder as he realised who the familiar voice belonged to, Jackson.


	5. Explanation 2

_I know I said that this chapter would be good, but I forgot that there were 2 parts to the explanation. I'll be posting again today because I promised a better chapter! :) Thank you!_

Stiles couldn't speak – even if he could, he didn't have a clue what he would even say.

"I was hoping you'd be dead but I wasn't counting on it. Our little 'deal' is still on Stiles, I _will_ kill you. I'll kill you both!" Jackson spat. Stiles held the phone to his ear, his blood filling with rage.

"Yeah, good luck with that buddy. If you didn't realise when you hired me, I'm very well trained", Stiles tried to sound confident as he spoke, even though his heart was doing backflips.

"So are my people…" Jackson replied smugly. Stiles was confused; what people?

"What?" Stiles tilted his head, ignoring how Lydia's eyes pleaded him to clue her in on what was being said.

"I have people all over the place Stiles. You won't know who they are. You won't see them coming until it's too late!" Jackson's smug voice teased through the phone's speaker.

"Why did you hire me if you already have people?" Stiles stood up from the table he was sat on, wincing as a shooting pain vibrated from his stomach. He turned away from Lydia's worried and confused glares at his side of the conversation.

"Because I'm all about finding new talents, Stilinski", Jackson answered back, his voice showing that he was growing impatient.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Stiles paced backwards and forwards across Scott's house, now earning his best friends attention and drawing him out of the kitchen.

"I was planning on doing the kill myself, since it was my target choice…" Jackson stated. Stiles was now the one growing impatient; he wanted answers. He wanted them now. "However, since I lost one of my men, and I'm always up for adding new talents to my group, I thought I would see what you could do…" Jackson told him smugly, "Now look where that got me!"

"What group?" Stiles now stood still, finally getting somewhere with this guy. He heard a laugh come from the other side of the line before Jackson spoke again.

"One word… Brotherhood", the line cut off but Stiles didn't move the phone from his ear – his whole body was stiff and he couldn't move.

"Stiles?" Lydia's voice called out from behind him, snapping him out of his paralysis. He turned around slowly, pulling the phone down from his face as if he were in slow motion.

When he finally looked at Lydia, Scott was stood next to her. Both of them had the same expression: confused and worried.

"It's the Brotherhood…" Stiles heard his voice but he hadn't even realised he was talking. He saw Scott's hand fly up to his face as his vision blurred. His breathing quickened and his heart rate plummeted.

"What's Brotherhood?" Lydia asked, her voice sounding outstretched and strange to Stiles. He suddenly felt as if the air around him was getting thinner as he struggled to breath it in. "Stiles, what's wrong?" Lydia's voice now had a tint of concern lining it.

"I think I'm having a panic attack!" he pressed his hand on the wall to steady his balance, his lungs clenching as they struggled to let air into them.

He felt arms grip hold of his shaking body and murmured reassuring words that he couldn't understand. He slipped down the wall and sat on the floor, feeling Lydia sink with him as she tried to calm him.

"Just try and slow your breathing!" she commanded, her hands floating above his face, but not touching it.

"I… I can't", he tried to slow down his breath but it only made it harder for him to suck in the little air he was getting.

He felt her hands finally touch his face as she grabbed hold of his cheeks. Time seemed to slow down as she pulled his face towards her and leant her face into his, crashing their lips together. His eyes widened in shock but quickly closed as he accepted the kiss – he had never even realised how much he had missed her until this moment.

After what was like hours, but must have only been seconds, of heaven, she pulled away from him slowly. When he finally pulled himself together, he opened his eyes and released a small shaky breath.

"How did you do that?" he asked, feeling the air fill his lungs once again.

"I read once, that holding your breath could stop a panic attack… so, when I kissed you, you held your breath", she explained slowly, still with a distressed look in her eyes.

"I did?" he uttered, not knowing what else to say. They were looking deeply into each other's eyes as they spoke.

"Yeah, you did", she responded with a small smile now ghosting her lips.

"Thanks. That was really smart", he smiled at her awkwardly. She gave him a shy smiled before leaning back against the wall, relief filling her body.

"Guys, I don't want to interrupt your moment but we have an issue!" Scott shouted over to them.

Stiles immediately sat upright; he had completely forgotten about Jackson and the Brotherhood. He focused his gaze on Lydia, who was raising her eyebrows at him.

"Who's the Brotherhood?" she asked, sitting forward again off of the wall. Stiles swallowed hard, preparing himself for her reaction when she found out that the _Brotherhood_ had set her as a target.

"You know I was saying about my Mom?" he started, waiting for her to nod before he continued to waste time. "Well she used to work with a guy called 'Jason' before they got caught. They were really close, I used to see pictures of them all around my house", he continued, stopping to make sure she was following. "He left my Moms group to start his own and…"

"Why did he leave?" Lydia cut in, furrowing her eyebrows as she tried to follow along and understand the story.

"My mom's group wasn't about hurting people, it was about protecting them. Let's just say that Jason had always liked killing a little too much and wanted to kill people that didn't deserve it. My mom eventually had to kick him out of the group, which didn't make him happy", Stiles explained.

"He obviously was a psycho!" Lydia butted in again.

"My mom told me once that he spent a lot of time in Eichen house for 'compulsive violence'. Basically their way of saying that he liked to kill!" he told her.

"If your mom knew that, then why did she let him join in the first place?" Lydia now had small, temporary lines of her forehead from all of the frowning.

"Like I said, they were close and she had a soft spot for him" Stiles chewed on the inside of his mouth as he got ready to tell her the worst part. "He started his own group. Psycho's like him, who liked hurting innocent people, joined. They choose their victim, I don't know how, then they murder them and carve a 'B' into their skin with a knife", Stiles winced as Lydia's eyes widened in horror.

"They're the killers that were all over the news?" she raised her voice and opened her mouth wide.

"Yeah and that's not even the worst part…" Stiles bit his lip as he looked up at her. "Jackson said that… you were his target"

Lydia's face turned ivory as she took in what he had just told her. He reached forward and touched her arm gently.

"Are you okay?" he asked in a reassuring tone. Her eyes turned shiny and she took in a deep breath – it was obvious she was trying to conceal her tears.

"This whole time, Jacksons was just planning on killing me?" she whispered with a quivering voice. Stiles nodded gently. "And that's why he hired you?" she continued.

"He said he lost a man. He wanted to see if I could replace him", he muttered quietly; he didn't want her to feel any worse.

"You didn't kill me though, what does that mean for you?" she brought the worried frown back to her face as she asked the question.

"He's going to try and kill me now", Stiles stood up, clutching his bandage to muffle the pain.

"Try?" Scott's voice called over to him. He turned to see Scott with a smirk on his lips as he looked at him.

"Try", he confirmed, returning the smirk and then turning back to Lydia, who didn't seem to get what they found funny about this, "Let's go and get my 'toys'", his smirk turned into a grin as Lydia opened her mouth to ask what he meant, but then changed her mind as she realised.


	6. Erica

_The 'better' chapter that I promised :)_

Stiles and Lydia had gotten back into Lydia's car and headed to his apartment. Scott had said he would stay at home, pretending that he had to clean up after Stiles' blood – Stiles knew he was giving him and Lydia some 'time together'.

Stiles keyed into his door and walked in, Lydia following close behind him. He headed straight over to his loose floorboard and pulled it out, feeling her eyes watching his every move. For some reason, this made his feel on edge and nervous.

As he pulled out weapon after weapon, ranging from crossbows to daggers and guns, he heard Lydia gasp in shock at the arsenal hidden under his flooring. He grabbed the bags of money he had earned from all of his jobs – there were several of them.

"How many jobs have you done?" her eyes were huge as she started at the sacks sat on the wood. Stiles gave her a throaty laugh and pulled his shirt over his head, throwing it to the side.

Lydia quickly looked down to the floor, making Stiles smirk as he walked over to the cupboard he kept his clothes in. He pulled a fresh shirt on and pulled the rest of his clothes into a black sack.

"What are you doing?" Lydia questioned, watching his rush around his apartment and shove things into the sack.

"Grabbing essentials", he replied shortly.

"For what?"

Stiles didn't reply, hoping he could hold off the questions for as long as possible. He dropped the sack onto the floor and started loading as many weapons onto his body as he could. He placed blades in his shoes and sleeves, guns under his belt line and a Taser in his pocket.

"For _what?"_ Lydia repeated, rather impatiently. Stiles stopped and sighed, turning to look at her and squinting his eyes as he pulled a pained expression.

"Okay Lydia, we can't stay here", he began but stopped when he saw her mouth open to protest.

"We're leaving?" she yelled louder than Stiles had expected, making him jump.

"We have to!" he assured her, picking up the black bag and walking towards her, "Let's go and get your stuff".

"We... we can't leave!" Lydia stuttered as she tried to think up a reason for them to stay here.

"Why?" Stiles shrugged, "Because of people?" he raised lifted his arms in a questioning manner and was answered in silence. "Lydia, the only person here you would have had to stay for is Jackson. Does that still apply?" he asked rhetorically and sarcastically.

She whimpered but agreed, surprising him; he had been expecting more of a fight to get her to leave her home town after spending her whole life here. Maybe she finally understood that they had no choice. Stiles gave her a short, thankful nod and stepped out of his house.

They headed over to Lydia's house and gathered up her 'essentials', which was a list far too big for Stiles' liking. He told her to get into the passenger seat and then piled two suitcases of clothes and memories into the trunk of her car.

Hearing a crunch, he spun around quickly and searched his surroundings for anyone that could possibly be a threat. A young girl stood behind him, smiling.

"Hi there!" she beamed over to him. He slowly reached into his sleeve and gripped hold of one of the blades sitting there.

Just as Stiles was about to pull the blade out of his sleeve, the passenger side of the car opened and Lydia rushed over to them.

"Hey Erica!" she chortled in a happy voice, grabbing hold of Stiles' arm to stop him. She shot him a quick warning glance and then returned her attention to Erica, chatting casually about something with her. Stiles released the blade and also smiled at the pretty blonde.

"Sorry Erica but Stiles and I really have to get going!" Lydia grinned, "We have a place we have to be at soon", she explained.

"Of course!" Erica replied sweetly.

Lydia fast-walked towards the car door she had come from and Stiles turned around to go to the driver's side. Suddenly he felt the hard thump of a foot in his back, sending hurtling forwards and crashing into the car and then rolling onto the ground.

Stiles swore loudly and grasped where his bandage sat. He faced towards Erica. She had a smirk on her face as she pulled a gun out of her waistline. A loud crack echoed through the air and Stiles ducked around the side of the car. The sound of metal hitting metal erupted as the bullet dug into the Prius.

A scream sounded from inside the vehicle – Lydia had poked her head out of the door to see about the noise, but was quickly made to pull it back inside when Erica fired her gun at her. An unbelievable rage built up inside Stiles at the thought of someone wanting to hurt her.

Quickly coming up with a plan, he took the largest blade out of his shoe and crouched while he walked around the other side of the car. Stiles held his finger up to his lips as he passed the open passenger door containing a terrified strawberry blonde, telling her to stay silent. She nodded with quivering breaths as he continues around the Prius.

When he reached the point where he couldn't go anymore without being spotted, he could see Erica slowly stepping towards where he was previously hiding with her gun outstretched. He tightened his grip on the handle of the knife and breathed in a deep breath.

He rocked on his heels for a few seconds, trying to force himself to run but his feet wouldn't move. It wasn't until he heard the sound of Lydia's scream again that he sprinted forward. He glided up behind Erica and pushed the blade deep into the side of her neck before she could turn around.

Pulling the blade out again, he watched as blood started to funnel out of the gaping hole he had left and she crashed to the concrete with a thud. She clasped at her throat as the blood drained out of her while Stiles simply watched.

Eventually, Erica's hands fell away from her neck and her body became limp and lifeless. Letting out a sigh, Stiles ran his fingers through his hair and stepped towards where Lydia sat. Before he reached the passenger door, Lydia stepped out of the car. She let out a small, stressed scream when she noticed the bleeding dead body on the floor.

"She's dead!" Lydia cried, throwing her hands over her mouth to avoid throwing up. She leant her body against her car and continued to fight the nausea.

"You'll feel better if you let it out", Stiles informed her, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. Immediately after he said it, she erupted the contents of her stomach onto the floor – he didn't know if it was by coincidence or because he had said she would feel better.

"You killed her!" Lydia finally managed to croak, her voice raw from the acids in her stomach.

"She was trying to kill us", Stiles told her in a soothing voice; the anger she was expressing was a side effect from seeing her first dead body – he had experienced the same thing with his mother when she had killed someone in front of him.

"She was my neighbour!" Lydia screamed, throwing up again soon after. Stiles stepped forward and grabbed hold of her hair, moving out of her face so she could be sick with ease.

"Lydia I know how you feel right now. I promise it will get better", he soothed, rubbing one hand over her back and still holding her hair with the other.

"Get better?" she jerked away from him, "How many times are you planning on doing this?"

"As many as I have to. Right now you can't see it logically but I had to kill her", he explained calmly. Lydia closed her eyes, letting the tears roll down her face. Eventually she nodded and tried to calm herself down.

"Where do we go now?" she murmured, avoiding looking at the dead body so she wouldn't be sick again.

"To go and do step one… and you won't like it", he winced at her as he stumbled over Erica's body and slumped into the driver's seat of the car. Lydia got into the passenger seat once again, pulling down the mirror and wiping the tear tracks off of her cheeks.

"What is it?" she sighed, looking at him with exhausted eyes.

"We have to steal a car. Jackson knows your car and probably mine too, we need one he won't suspect", he told her, starting her car and looking over to see her reaction.

Lydia just closed her eyes and lay her head on the back of her chair, whimpering so quietly Stiles could only just hear her. He breathed out a short, relieved breath at how well she had taken the news and rolled the car out of Lydia's drive way.


	7. Motel

_Sorry I didn't upload yesterday, I was really busy. I hope you enjoy this chapter, it was a lot of fun to write :) Please feel free to leave reviews! Thank you for reading_

Stiles pulled the car into a car park behind a random industrial building. He looked at Lydia, who had fallen asleep during the drive. Her face was pale and she had dark circles underneath her eyes from all of the stress he was bringing her but she still managed to look beautiful.

Stiles nudged arm and she jolted awake, sitting forwards and examined her surrounding quickly. He hated that since he had come back into her life, she was scared all the time. Then again, she would be dead right now if he hadn't.

"You pick", Stiles smiled, gesturing around all of the cars parked around them. He watched her eyes roam around and her lip turn into a pout as she though – a pout that he thought looked incredibly cute on her.

"That one", Lydia pointed towards a rusty, grey pick-up truck.

" _That_ one?" Stiles started at the banged up truck with confused, squinting eyes. "Out of all of the cars here, you want _that_?"

"It looks like it's the cheapest", Lydia explained, looking down at her hands as she twiddled her thumbs, "If we have to steal a car, I don't want the owner to be losing a really expensive one… I know it sounds stupid".

"No, it doesn't", Stiles blinked at her with gentle eyes, "That's really nice of you".

She smiled back at him happily and then they both got out of the Prius and headed over to the truck. Lydia kept watch as Stiles pulled his shoes laces out of his trainers and tied the end in a loop. He then pushed the window downwards until a small gap emerged at the top and dangled the looped lace through it. The loop eventually hooked over the lock knob and Stiles pulled on the shoe lace until the door was unlocked. Lydia stared at him with her mouth open wide but didn't say anything. They both got into their new vehicle and Stiles searched around for a possible key.

"What are you doing?" Lydia asked, staring at him with a confused expression.

"Looking for a key", Stiles answered, still searching around. He heard Lydia laugh slightly and open her mouth to retort something, but she quickly shut it again when he opened the glove compartment and a key – probably spare – lay in there.

They drove for 5 hours none stop, Stiles driving the whole time. Lydia had offered to drive but she didn't know where Stiles was heading and so he figured it would be easier if he just drove himself. Finally, Stiles decided he was too tired to carry on and stopped at a motel he came by on the side of the rode. It was called the 'Glenn Capri'.

Lydia woke up at the sound of the engine coming to a halt and gave Stiles a questioning look.

"I'm tired", he answered, yawning in perfect coincidence. She nodded and opened her door. Stiles walked into the reception and tapped the bell sitting on the counter. An older woman walked through the back door with a grateful smile that told Stiles they didn't get many customers. She had a tube coming out of her neck, obviously to help her breathe.

"Hello, how can I help you?" she beamed. Stiles was about to ask for two rooms to make Lydia feel more comfortable but after one look at her, he knew she would feel safer in the same room as him.

"One room please", he told her. He heard Lydia breathe out a sigh of relief as soon as he said it, making him smile to himself.

"Double okay?" the woman spoke as she tapped something out on her computer.

"Do you have two singles?" Stiles stole a glance at Lydia to see her reaction to his request but her face was unreadable.

"Only got doubles left I'm afraid", the woman explained apologetically. Stiles couldn't believe they had managed to get enough customers that there were no single rooms left.

"Okay then it's fine", he yawned, rubbing his eyes sleepily. He handed the woman some cash and accepted the key to their room. Just as he was about to walk away, a number on the wall behind the woman caught his eye, "What's that number?" he jerked his head to point out what he was talking about.

"It's a little bit morbid, you sure you wanna know?" she grinned in a way that made Stiles not so sure that he did.

"Tell me", he said cautiously, watching her eyes lit up as she got to tell him the story.

"We're not going to make number one when it comes to customer satisfaction", she started, still grinning from ear to ear.

"Obviously!" Stiles heard Lydia mutter from behind him.

"But we are number one when it comes to one disturbing little detail. More than any other Motel in California, we have the most guest's suicides", she finished with a hint of laughter in her voice.

Stiles looked one more time at the number, it said '198'. Deciding he didn't want to know anymore, he took Lydia's hand and dragged her off towards the room number they had been given. He could still hear the creepy woman chuckling behind them.

Once inside the room, he muttered to Lydia that he was going to have a shower and waltzed into the bathroom. He let the water run for a few minutes to make sure it went warm; he knew from experience that places like this took a while for their water to heat up. Stiles took the bandage off of his wound and stepped into bath tub that the shower was attached to the wall in.

After a few minutes of rinsing his aching body with soothing water, he turned to grab the soap sitting on a shelf in the corner. As Stiles turned, he Lydia stood in the middle of the bathroom floor.

"Lydia!" Stiles yelled in surprise, grabbing for the shower curtain only to realise there wasn't one – of course there wasn't a shower curtain.

"Sorry!" she quickly looked down to the tiled floor but made no effort to leave the bathroom.

"Lydia, what are you doing in here?" he called to her exasperatedly, hiding himself from her awkwardly.

"I could hear noises and I didn't want to be alone", Lydia explained, her cheeks turning bright red in embarrassment.

"What that woman said about the suicides has got you really shaken up hasn't it?" he asked, his voice now calmer and softer.

She nodded and shuffled on her heels, still staring at the floor, "Can I just stay in here with you, I promise I won't look?" she begged.

"Fine", Stiles winced; he felt awkward enough around her as it was without being naked. She gave a huge, relieved exhale and then turned around and sat on the floor against the bath tub.

Stiles tried to carry on with his showering but he couldn't – when he tried to use the soap he kept dropping it and then got it in his eyes as he tried to wash. In the end, he gave up and turned the shower off.

"Lydia, can you go out of the room for like one second?" Stiles asked her. He watched her visibly tense up at the question.

"Why?" she nervously replied, eyeing up the door to the other room like it was leading to a dungeon.

"My towel is the other side of the bathroom"

Lydia stood up and walked out of the room without saying another word, making Stiles feel awkward; was she angry at him now or something? Why didn't she say anything?

Stiles got out of the shower and grabbed the towel, rubbing water out of his hair and then wrapping it around his waist. When he walked into the bedroom, Lydia was stood right outside the door.

"Do you want a shower?" he asked her gently. She thought for a moment and eventually nodded.

"Could you come in the bathroom with me?" she winced as she said it, realising how childish she sounded. Stiles smiled at her and nodded; he knew she was terrified right now and he didn't blame her. Someone wanted her dead and they were staying in a motel which had probably had suicides done in the room they were sleeping in.

Stiles quickly threw on a t-shirt and some jeans from his sack and followed Lydia into the bathroom. He turned around while she took off her clothes and then sat in the same place she had been sitting in while she showered.

When Lydia was finally done, he waited outside the bathroom while she put fresh clothes on. She came out wearing a pair of leggings and a t-shirt a few sizes too big, making her look incredibly cute.

"You can take the bed, I'll sleep on the floor", he yawned as she climbed onto the bed and under the sheets.

"Wait, you're not sleeping in the bed too?" she frowned, her eyes filled with the same scared look they had when he asked him to wait in the bathroom with her.

He nodded in a way that told her he would sleep in the bed with her and she relaxed immediately. Stiles climbed into the bed beside her, feeling her snuggle up against him like a little puppy, scared of the world. It didn't take long for him to fall asleep like this.


	8. First Kill

The sun shone into Stiles' eyes, waking him up. During the night, he and Lydia had somehow managed to become so tangled in each other that it was almost uncomfortable. Stealing a glance at the clock and realising that it was only 7:15, Stiles closed his eyes and tried to drift back to sleep.

Suddenly, a bang sounded behind the bathroom door, now jolting Lydia awake too. They detangled themselves from each other to sit up. Stiles noticed Lydia's eyes widen in fear and he felt her snuggle into his side. He slowly rose from the mattress and started to make his way towards the door.

"Stiles, where are you going?" Lydia whispered sharply. He didn't turn to face her but he could imagine the fear-filled expression she was probably currently wearing.

"I'm just going to take a look", he stepped a little closer to the bathroom, hearing a sharp intake of breath from behind him.

"Stiles don't!" Lydia called a little louder. He turned slightly, putting his index finger over his lips to indicate she should be quiet. Her eyes were brimming with tears as she pulled the duvet up to her chin.

Stiles hovered over the handle for a second to prepare himself. He slowly drew it a deep breath and then yanked the door open.

The room was dark and empty. He stepped in and opened the cupboard next to the bath tub, examining inside it and then shutting it again. Letting out his breath he turned around to head back into the bedroom.

His eyes were immediately met with a figure dressed in black stood against the wall the other side of the door. His heart sky rocketed as the figure sprinted at him. They both came crashing down into the tub, knocking the shower lever as the fell and letting a spray of water fall onto their fighting bodies. Limbs flailed as each person tried to gain the upper hand in the battle.

Stiles felt a hand grip the side of his face and then his head crashed into the wall, leaving him dizzy and disorientated. He no longer felt the body on top of him and he strained his head to see a blurry figure walking towards the bedroom.

A scream erupted from Lydia, waking up the 'action' part of Stiles' brain and making him stand up. He jumped out of the bath and stumbled into the bedroom. When he noticed the scene in front of him, his mouth dropped open- Lydia was stood above the figure, who was lying on the ground. She had a knife in her hand that was dripping in blood.

Lydia looked up at Stiles, tears pouring down her face. She dropped the knife and looked down at her blood covered hands, her breath starting to quicken. Stiles quickly rushed over to her, catching her just before she fell down onto her knees in shock.

"You're okay", he muttered to her, brushing her hair away from her face and pulling her against his chest. She stood there for a second not doing anything, like a statue. Eventually, she started to make groaning, whimpering noises as she looked at the blood on her hands and desperately rubbed them together, trying to brush off the blood.

Stiles calmly lead her into the bathroom and turned on the taps, pushing her hands underneath them and washing them for her while. He knew exactly how she felt right now; he had felt that way himself, desperate to get rid of any evidence that you killed someone, not for fear of getting caught but for your own benefit.

It was 11:55 when Stiles had finally gotten rid of the body and the blood. Lydia had sat on the bed the whole time, watching Stiles work silently. Both of them had also showered and put fresh clothes on that weren't covered in blood.

"You ready?" Stiles called over to her soothingly as he stood at the door with their bags in his hands. She nodded, stood up and walked over to him. She waited in the car while he handed his key back to the creepy old woman and then he started the car again, heading to his destination.

"Where are we going?" Lydia finally spoke, surprising Stiles; he hadn't expected her to talk for a while yet.

"A sort of safe house. It was a place my mother used to take me when she thought someone was getting close to finding something out about her", Stiles explained, looking at her in the mirror. She was staring out of the window, a blank expression on her features.

They stayed silent for a couple of hours, both thinking about the events of the past few days. Stiles risked a look at the fuel and internally groaned – they were almost running on fumes. He pulled the car into the next garage they came by and he got out to fill the tank.

The whole time he was filling the car with fuel, he looked at Lydia. He couldn't tell how she was handling the fact that she had killed someone, her face was blank. He felt bad for her; nobody deserved this, especially her.

He pulled the petrol pump out of the car and quickly waltzed into the building. Grabbing some sandwiches and a couple of drinks, he paid for the petrol and then headed back over to the car.

"I picked these up, I don't know if you're hungry", Stiles smiled at her and handed her both of the sandwiches so that she could choose hers.

"Thanks", she gave him an exhausted smile and then started to examine the fillings in each sandwich. She handed him the turkey club back and opened the box of the ham – he was glad she was at least eating after that, he hadn't.

The car journey continued until 9:00pm the next day, non-stop driving on Stiles' part. Yawning in exhaustion, Stiles finally pulled out outside of the small house in the middle of nowhere.

"Hey, Lydia", he whispered, waking her up and watching her take in the building. He noticed her eyes getting livelier as she realised there were no buildings around the house, nobody to bother, or hunt them.

They both exited the truck and Stiles pulled their bags out of the boot. When he turned back around, Lydia was already stood at the door, waiting for him to unlock it and let her look around. He smiled and granted her wish, twisting the key into the lock and opening the door.


	9. Settling In

_This story probably wont be as long as my other one :P I will write another after this one though :) Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy! Please feel free to leave a review telling me what you think! :D_

Stiles sat on the leather sofa, watching Lydia potter around unpacking her 'essentials'. She was taking the whole leaving thing way better than he had expected her to.

"What?" she giggled, turning to face him as he stared at her. She seemed to have completely forgotten about the 'incident' yesterday and he didn't want to remind her.

"I was just watching", Stiles smiled and walked over to the kitchen side, where he had placed the keys to the truck and plucked them in between his fingers.

"Where are you going?" Lydia slid her feet across the floor to stand in front of him, blocking his pathway to the door.

"To go get some food, do you want to go hungry?" Stiles asked rhetorically, smirking at her eye roll.

Lydia tip-toed over to the stereo and flicked through the different CD's that were stacked next to it. Stiles felt his heart sink; those CD's had belonged to his mother. He used to listen to them with her every time they stayed here.

"Are you okay?" he heard Lydia's voice call over to him – he must have been pulling a face from thinking about his mom that he didn't realise he was pulling.

"Yeah", Stiles forced himself to grin at her, satisfying her enough to return her attention to the CD's. She eventually decided on one and pushed the disk into the player.

'To The Wonder' by 'Aqualung' blasted out, tugging at another string on Stiles' heart at the sound of one of his mom's favourite songs on her favourite CD. He spun around and quickly headed towards the door, desperate to leave before it got any worse.

"I love this song", Lydia murmured, mostly to herself but it made make Stiles turn to face her again. She had her eyes closed and she was swaying softly to the tune.

Stiles felt his breathing go uneven and his hands go clammy with nervous sweat, but he had no idea why. Lydia opened her bright, emerald eyes and danced over to him, grabbing his hands and pulling him closer to her.

"Food shopping can wait for a bit. Come and dance with me for a while, please", Lydia wrapped her arms around his neck.

Stiles' mouth involuntarily opened slightly to release his breath better. He placed his arms around her waist and swayed to the music. A few minutes later the song changed to 'Hurts Like Hell' by 'Fleurie'.

Lydia pressed her head against his shoulder as they danced around the small room. Stiles could feel her smiling against him and he beamed – he had never felt as happy as he did right now. The sensation of Lydia's lips against his ear lobe made Stiles drop the car keys he was still holding tightly onto.

She giggled as he bent down to pick them up again. He quickly stood up in embarrassment, bumping into Lydia slightly. He laughed awkwardly as she smiled a warm smile at him, gazing into his eyes. She stepped forwards slightly, closing the gap between their bodies and craning her neck upwards. Her lips came nearer to his and he could feel his heart beat in his head; this was different to at Scott's house, she wasn't trying to stop a panic attack and it made it special. It also made him nervous.

Obviously it made him a little too nervous, because he stepped backwards away from her. He immediately regretted it as she shrank away from him and awkwardly brushed her hair behind her ear. Her expression showed that she felt rejected as she turned and stepped over to the CD player, turning it off, not turning away from it again.

"I'm going to go and get some food, the shops will close soon", he told her, trying to come up with a plausible excuse for what he had just done.

"Yeah", she called out shortly, slumping off into the kitchen and out of sight.

Stiles got into the truck and started the engine - he didn't make any move to leave though. He felt rage bleed through his veins, aimed at himself; he had ruined what could have been a perfect moment between him and Lydia, a moment that perhaps would fix everything wrong between them.

To release some of the anger, Stiles rammed his fist into the steering wheel. He noticed his skin splitting, but it hadn't hurt; the adrenaline had absorbed the pain. He blew out a quick sharp breath and then moved the vehicle away from the house and towards the nearest super market.

The pain started to come through in Stiles' knuckle as he walked down each isle in the super market, collecting essential food items. He ignored it and carried on with his task. Just as he was about to go and pay for his food, he noticed a box of gummy worms sitting on one of the shelves: Lydia's favourite sweets of all time.

Stiles debated for a few seconds. His rules were essentials only, so buying gummy worms would be breaking them. Then again, he had already let Lydia bring two suitcases with her and he had unintentionally rejected her earlier. He decided to buy them as a peace offering for the strawberry blonde.

Stiles was almost excited to give Lydia her special treat as he arrived back at the house they would be staying in. He grabbed the bags of shopping from the boot and headed inside, placing them onto the counter. Lydia was nowhere to be seen.

"Lydia?" he called out, starting to unpack each food item and put them into cupboard. Lydia walked into the kitchen, rubbing sleep out of her eyes and squinting at the bright light coming through the window. "Oh sorry, were you sleeping?"

Lydia nodded and yawned, running her fingers through her hair. She seemed okay but Stiles could feel tension in the air.

"I got you something", Stiles delved into the shopping bag that he knew the gummy worms were in and lifted them out. Lydia's eyes widened in excitement, like a little kid, at the sight of them.

"Thank you so much!" she grinned from ear to ear as she grabbed the sweets and started to shove them into her mouth – Stiles mentally thanked himself for making the decision to get them for her.

At 8:30pm that night, after both Stiles and Lydia had showered and dressed in 'pyjamas', they both sat on the leather sofa eating gummy worms and watching a cheesy movie that Lydia had picked. She had now completely forgiven him for the rejection earlier, but he noticed that she still distanced herself from him more than she had been the last couple of days. Maybe it was because she felt safer now. Whatever it was, Stiles hated it; he wanted Lydia to be close to him, he missed her.

Halfway through the movie, Stiles felt Lydia's head drop onto his shoulder. He glanced down at her and smiled at her tiny, sleeping frame curled up against him again. Feeling content, he closed his eyes and let himself drift into blackness.


	10. Plan

_Just thought I would say, I loved the finale! It was great :) Thank you for reading, please leave reviews 3_

Stiles slept in late for the first time in years. When he woke up, it was 11:55 and Lydia wasn't next to him. In Lydia's place, an empty tub that contained the gummy worms sat.

As Stiles stood up he could hear the tap sounding in the kitchen. He stretched as he entered the room. Lydia turned around and gave him a huge grin. Her, usually straight, hair was lying in a stream of small, natural curls – Stiles found them adorable.

"Morning", Lydia called over to him after glancing at the clock to make sure it was still the morning.

"Why didn't you wake me?" Stiles asked as he wondered over to the fridge and pulled out the eggs.

"You looked like you needed the sleep", Lydia replied, walking up behind him as he cracked some eggs into a pan and placed them over the hob on the cooker. "Oh good, I'm starving!" she moaned, looking over his shoulder.

"You know you can eat when I'm not here", Stiles laughed, turning around to face Lydia and stepping back in surprise when her face was only inches from his.

"What do you mean, you're always going to be here aren't you?" she stared into his eyes, her brow furrowed in concern that he could leave her.

He wanted to tell her the plan he had come up with but seeing her face right now told him it wasn't the right time – he would have to tell her soon though, he was planning on acting tonight.

"Yeah, I just mean for shopping and stuff…" Stiles explained as an excuse. She didn't answer but her frown was gone and she was beaming.

Stiles excused himself to the bathroom and took a shower. While he soaked his body in the spray of water (which was a lot warmer than the Glen Capri), he went over his plan in his head.

Step one: finding Jackson – he would have to get hold of a tracking device of some kind.

Step two: getting Jackson to talk – he wanted information and answers about all of this. Like why he had chosen Lydia as a target.

Step three: take Jackson down – cut off the head of a snake and the body dies.

Step four: take Lydia back to her home – he loved the idea of living with her here, but he knew she would probably want to be in a place with other people to communicate with.

After going over the plan a few more times in his head, Stiles finally got out of the shower, dried himself and put on some fresh clothes. Exiting the bathroom, he heard the TV baring. Stiles breathed in and composed himself – he needed to tell her his plan at some point, might as well be now.

He stepped confidently into the room. Lydia was sat in the middle of the leather seat, he feet curled up underneath her. She shoved a forkful of eggs, the ones he had put on the cooker, into her mouth, not taking her eyes off of the screen. He opened his mouth to talk but nothing came out; he was too nervous now that he could see how relaxed she was.

Lydia beamed when she finally noticed him standing in the doorway. "How long have you been there?" she giggled as she paused the TV.

"Just got here", he replied, slumping onto the seat next to her. He could feel the heat radiating off of her body as she snuggled up to him, resting her head on his shoulder and resuming the movie.

Stiles tried to focus on the movie but he couldn't. His mind kept drifting to what her reaction would be to his plan; would she hate him? Or what if he didn't survive and she was stuck out here with no food?

"Stiles?" he heard her voice whisper, dragging him out of his dream world, "Did you hear me?"

"Sorry, what did you say?" he cleared his throat, pretending that he had been too involved in the film to hear her, and not his mind.

"Can you change the movie, this one's finished. I asked you like five minutes ago", she laughed "Did you fall asleep?"

He nodded, standing up and walking over to the DVD player, "What do you want to watch?"

The cycle continued for three more movies. Stiles tried to concentrate, failed and then got up and changed the disk to a new film.

"Are you hungry?" he asked, noticing how late it was getting.

"Alright, what it wrong with you?" Lydia sighed, sitting up and looking deeply into his eyes.

"I just thought you might be hungry, we haven't eaten since this morni…"

"You know what I mean", she cut in harshly, "You have zoned out every single movie, and you haven't even heard when I've spoken to you… are you ignoring me?"

Stiles didn't reply, staring at the floor and feeling guilty; it did seem like he was ignoring her.

"Is this about yesterday?" she shrank back into her seat, her eyes turning glassy, "I'm sorry, it was just a heat of the moment thing"

Stiles looked up at her, "No. This isn't about yesterday, I promise"

"Then what's wrong?" she raised her voice and threw her arms in the air in question.

"I…" he started, groaning as he tried to find the right words to explain – he didn't want to leave her all alone, he didn't even know how long it would take to find Jackson.

"You can tell me", Lydia touched his arm gently and leaned towards him so that she could hear him better.

"I have to leave for a while", he started, internally cringing as her eyes started to widen.

"Why?"

"I'm going to put an end to this"

"No, Stiles"

"I' going to kill Jackson", he reassured her.

There was a moment of silence between them before Lydia spoke, "Don't. Don't go, please Stiles", she begged, her eyed brimming with tears.

"Hey, I'm coming back", he soothed, rubbing her arms gently with his palms.

"What if you don't make it?" she stood up, trying to get her point across, "You've seen what he can fight like, what if he kills you?" she yelled.

Stiles stood up and pulled her into an embrace – he knew she wouldn't like it but he hadn't expected her to get this wound up about it. She pulled away from him slightly, looking up at his face and bringing her hands up to caress his cheeks.

"Stiles, please don't go. Promise me you won't go", gentle tears fell down her cheeks, making his heart melt. He nodded at her, silently promising he wouldn't leave her.

Just as Stiles was about to tell her that 'everything was okay', she threw herself into him, crashing their lips together. They carried on kissing, not gentle and soft like Stiles had imagined it would be, but hard and lust filled.

They backed into the bedroom, their limbs roaming over each other's bodies and taking in every detail they could, every dip and curve, every muscle. Eventually, the back of Stiles' legs hit the bed and he fell backwards, Lydia crashing on top of him. They continued their frenzied kiss as Lydia pulled Stiles' shirt over the top of his head and taking a second to appreciate his body.

"I've missed us", she whispered breathlessly.

Those words stuck in Stiles' mind, even when he woke up in the middle of the night tangled around Lydia and the bed sheets. Those words were exactly what made up his mind for him – he had to go and put a stop to Jackson before he found them and ended his world.

Stiles stood up and walked over to the wardrobe as silently as he could, wincing as it creaked open. He pulled some clothes onto his body and then walked out of the bedroom. Just as he was about to grab the keys and go, he stopped. Stiles tip-toed back into the bedroom and placed a small kiss on Lydia's forehead.

"I'm coming back", he whispered to her sleeping body. Then he headed out and got into the truck, twisting the key in the ignition. The engine roared to life but Stiles sat still for a second, thinking about going back inside and leaving her a note.

He didn't have too… Lydia stepped out of the door, a white sheet wrapped around her body and a hurt look in her eyes. Stiles shot her an apologetic look and backed away from the house, and Lydia. As he drove away, he noticed her step forward and watch the car drive into the distance, sobbing.


	11. Tracking

_A couple of reviews have changed my mind about cancelling. The chapters may not be as long and they may take longer to come out but I will finish this story! :)_

Stiles' phone had been buzzing again and again, none stop for the last two hours. Each time the ringing stopped and it counted as a missed call, he felt worse – he wanted to answer and try and explain himself, but he had to focus on the job if he ever wanted it done.

The ringing stopped and Stiles sighed in a mix of relief and guilt. He continued to drive in silence, heading towards the police station. As he pulled into gigantic car park a Bing came through his phone, signifying a voicemail had been sent to him.

Stiles debated listening to it before eventually clicking the answer button and lifting it to his ear.

"Stiles please tell me that you're okay, call me, text me, anything! I gotta know that you're okay" she spoke quickly to avoid the voicemail cutting her off.

The message made him feel terrible. His eyes started to tear up but he quickly blinked them back and pulled up Lydia's name on his contacts. He hovered over the call button for a few seconds but decided a text would be easier. All he wrote was 'don't worry. I'm alive'

Then he turned his phone off and headed inside the police station and up to the front desk. A scrawny woman with black hair and thick blue glasses sat behind the desk, looking up at him expectantly.

"I'm here to see my dad", he smiled, "The sheriff"

The woman tapped a few buttons on the phone next to her and held the speaker to her ear, being careful not to wreck her nails, "Sheriff, your 'son' is here to see you", and she glared up at him as she said the word son, like she didn't believe him.

The woman listened to the man for a second and then jerked her head towards his dad's office, a friendlier smile on her lips. He didn't return the smile as she waked past her and into his father's office.

"Stiles, what do you want?" his dad knew him too well.

"I need use the tracking thing", he pointed to the computer used for finding people's addresses.

"No", the sheriff folded his arms in a way that told Stiles this wasn't up for debate.

"What, why?" Stiles jerked his whole body in frustration at his father's answer.

"Because, Stiles, we aren't even really allowed to use it unless it's an emergency!"

"This is an emergency!"

"I'm not being a part of your 'hit list' killings!"

"It's not!"

"So you're not killing someone?" his dad raised his eyebrows, waiting for an answer.

"Well, yeah but", Stiles started to say but was interrupted by his dad holding up his hand, walking towards the door and opening it.

"Goodbye Stiles", his dad gestured his hand out of the door, telling Stiles to leave.

"No dad, this isn't for the hit list!" he tried to convince him, closing the door again and earning a frustrated sigh.

"So you're killing without meaning? That's murder Stiles!" his dad yelled, pointing at a poster on his wall with the definition of murder on it, "Actually, it's always murder! I can deal with not arresting you but I will _not_ be helping you!"

"It's for Lydia!" Stiles screamed. Silence echoed around the room before his dad spoke again.

"Lydia wants you to kill someone?" he squinted, not quite believing his son.

"No, she's wanted by the Brotherhood dad, the BROTHERHOOD!" Stiles explained, exasperatedly drawing a B with his fingers.

The sheriff sighed and sat on his desk, rubbing his forehead with his hands, "Are you sure?" he asked, looking up at Stiles.

"Yes. They hired me to kill her first", he winced as he waited for the reply.

"And you didn't kill her?"

"Well obviously, god do you really think I'd kill her?" he was appalled by the insinuation.

"I thought you weren't together anymore?"

"We're not… I think", he was thinking about last night and what that meant for them.

"Fine", his thoughts were interrupted by his dad talking. It took him a second to realise that he was allowed to use the tracking device.

"Thank you!" he beamed, quickly hugging with dad and then he rushed over to the computer and started to enter in details. His dad was stood behind him, watching over his shoulder.

"How do you know how to use this software?" he asked curiously, watching his son type like a maniac.

Stiles simply shushed him and went back to tracking. Eventually, the computer found a match.


	12. Gas Station

Stiles was now back in 'his' truck, heading for the location given to him on his dad's tracking computer. He risked turning his phone back on and, like he had expected, was bombarded with texts, miss calls and voicemails from Lydia.

He had one missed call from Scott. Dialling the number and putting the phone to his ear, while still driving, he waited for his friend to answer. It didn't take long, it never did with Scott.

"You left her!" Scott yelled through the speaker, anger and frustration filling his tone.

"What, how do you even know about that?"

"She found my number on the fridge… anyway that's beside the point, why did you leave her?" Scott grumbled.

"I'm helping her actually", Stiles retorted.

"How? By leaving her to starve to death?" Scott shouted. Stiles sighed and veered his car to the side of the road; he didn't want to crash.

"I'm going after Jackson. I'm gonna kill him", he winced in preparation for Scott's outburst – he knew his friend too well.

"You're going after Jackson!" he screamed, "Did you forget how he almost killed you?"

"I'm prepared now", he glanced over his shoulder at the collection of guns he hadn't moved into the house.

"Stiles, just promise me you won't come back dead", Scott muttered softly in a voice full on concern.

"Well that is a promise I can make because if I'm dead I won't come back at all", Stiles tried to lighten the mood, and stop his nerves from kicking in.

"You know what I mean you dick!" Scott retorted angrily, but Stiles could hear the hint of joke in his tone.

"I promise", Stiles smiled, even though he knew Scott couldn't see it.

"I'll call Lydia back and tell her you're okay", Scott told him and then they both hung up.

Stiles breathed out; the tension about Lydia was being relieved. He took a moment to gather himself and then started the truck again and continued his path to the place Jackson was tracked to.

Two hours down the road, Stiles had to stop at a gas station. Once his car was filled, he went inside the shop to pay and grab something to eat. The place was completely empty. He rang the bell on the desk a couple of times, nothing. Letting out a frustrated groan, he pushed past the desk and walked into the back room where he could hear a TV blaring. Preparing himself to shout at the owner, he turned towards the noise but stopped at the sound of voices.

"I don't know who he is, I swear I've never seen him!" a terrified man sobbed. Stiles risked a peek around the corner. A man, most likely the one who had just spoken, was on his knees. Another guy, dressed in black clothes with a huge 'B' on the front, held a gun to his head. In his spare hand he held a picture. It was a picture of Stiles.

"Well look who just became useless", the man with the gun pulled back on the hammer and pressed it hard against the other guy's head.

"No wait plea…"

Bang. The guy fell to the floor and the other one pushed the guy back into its holster on his hip. Stiles covered his mouth to halt the noise of his heavy breath in the, now silent, back room. He quickly headed out of the gas station and back into the truck. His hands were shaking as he drove away; they were still after him and he wasn't used to it. He was always the one going after someone.

He was now only one hour away from his destination and he didn't know if he was ready yet. He smacked his head hard on the back of his seat in frustration as he drove closer and closer to Jacksons place. The Brotherhood were ruthless, they had demonstrated that on multiple occasions.

He kept telling himself to finish the mission and the thought of Lydia was the only thing holding him onto it. He had to protect her.


	13. Inside

Stiles parked the truck further down the road from the factory that the tracking device had lead him to; he didn't want to cause any suspicion.

He sat in the car for a while to create a plan – he never did a job in a big place like this without knowing the interior and where he was heading. He googled the name of the factory 'Fort Jewett' and scanned the pictures, piecing together what order they went in. He had always been good at things like that.

Once satisfied with the order, he made the connections in his brain at the probably location of Jackson's whereabouts. Something told him that Jackson was quite high up in order of importance in the Brotherhood, but not the top. That space was for Jason.

He finally decided on a route fifteen minutes later and exited the vehicle, heading for the abandoned 'Fort Jewett'. He made his way to the back of the building, looking for the basement entrance he had seen on the pictures. He quickly found it and pulled out the lock-picking pins he always had on him, forcing the lock open in one quick and smooth movement and then clambering inside the building.

Now inside, he tip-toed to the grey door to his left, like he had planned, and then peeked his head around the corner to check the coast was clear. A guy leant against the wall a couple of inches away from him, phone pressed against his ear.

"Well find them, J won't be happy if we come out empty handed on this!" the guy grumbled through the speaker. Stiles couldn't decipher who he was talking about – J could be Jackson or Jason.

Stiles waited patiently for the guy to finish his phone call; he didn't want to attack when someone else was aware of it. Eventually, he shoved the device back into his pocket and wiped his face with his hands in stress. Stiles took that as his opportunity and he lunged forwards, covering the man's mouth with his left hand and wrapping his right arm around his neck. With one sharp twist, the guy went limp in Stiles' arms and he dragged his lifeless body back into the room, leaving him on the floor and exiting again.

He headed left, turned the corner and then turned right and stopped in front of another grey door. Hearing footsteps and chattering behind him, he rapidly threw himself into the room and closed the door behind him.

"Holy sh…" he heard a deep voice behind him and he spun around. A tall, muscly man was reaching across a table to grab a shotgun. Stiles immediately pulled a small, circular blade from his underneath his shoe and Frisbee threw it towards the man, hoping it would hit. And it did, right in the guy's neck.

He released a long, relieved breath and carried on moving. He went over the steps in his mind as he quietly jogged. Stiles instantly halted when he heard a faint whimpering sound coming from the other side of one of the doors he was passing. He backed up until he was next to it and pressed his ear to the wood. There was a definite sound of crying on the inside of the room that sounded all too familiar to Stiles. It was Lydia.

Without thinking, he pushed the door open. Lydia was in the middle of the room tied down to a chair with duct tape over her mouth. Her eyes widened in horror when she saw him and she hastily started to shake her head. Murmured sounds came from underneath the tape that Stiles couldn't understand. He stepped towards her to untie her from the chair but after one step, a large bulky hand gripped his shirt and threw him to the ground with tremendous force.

Stiles heard Lydia's muffled scream and he groaned at the pain spiralling along his back from hitting the hard concrete flooring. He looked up at the figure above him and sighed, pressing his head hard against the ground in a mix of anger, fear and irritation. It wasn't Jackson who stood above him, it was Jason.


	14. Captured

Jason tied Stiles' wrists to a hook on the ceiling. He was suspended so high that he had stand on the tip of his toes to keep on the ground. His wrists were already hurting and he had only been tied up for about two minutes. A large piece of duct tape was over his mouth and he was directly opposite Lydia, facing her.

Lydia was whimpering loudly, clearly unable to control it and there was a patch of blood with a trickle going down her face – most likely they had knocked her out to get her from the house to here. Jason stepped in front of Stiles' view of the red head with a smile on his face.

"Jackson tells me that you're the one he was going to recruit", Jason explained as he patted Stiles' body up and down, removing all of his weapons one by one, "Judging by how equipped and trained you seem to be, it's a damn shame that you tried to save the target", he jerked his head backwards towards Lydia, "Now I have to kill you".

Jason was shaking his head in genuine remorse as he held a blade up to Stiles' throat, "It's a damn shame", he muttered again. Stiles closed his eyes in preparation for his death but instead, he was met with a chuckle.

"Oh I'm not going to kill you yet", Jason pulled the knife away. There was a hint of excitement and enjoyment in the way he spoke, "You killed at least four of my people", his face turned serious and his voice went darker. He leaned in close to Stiles' ear, "I'm going to make you suffer so much that you won't be begging for mercy, you'll be begging for your own sweet death!" he started to laugh again – a twisted sadistic laugh that would haunt Stiles for many night to come, if he made it that long.

Jason waltzed over to Lydia, standing behind her chair and titling her head back to expose more of her neck so that Stiles could see. He held the blade against it, obviously quite hard because it started to draw blood. Stiles yelled and aggressively swung his body, desperate to get over to her and save her.

He suddenly felt a sharp, agonizing stab in his shoulder. Looking down, he realized that Jason had thrown the knife into his body. Relief flooded him; Lydia was no longer in as much danger as she had been a second ago, but she wasn't out of the woods yet.

Stiles heard the door open and turned towards it. Jackson walked in holding a large, aluminium baseball bat. Jason whispered something into his ear and then turned back to Stiles.

"I'm sorry to cut out little meeting short but I have things I have to get done. Jackson will keep you nice and comfortable until I return", he winked, gesturing to the baseball bat and then gliding out of the room. The door slammed shut behind him.

Stiles noticed the cuts still on Jacksons face from when Lydia had smashed the lamp on it as he stepped towards him, bat in hand.

"Now I should warn you, I was the captain of the baseball team in high school", Jackson smirked as he gripped the handle and raised the bat high above his head.

Stiles turned his face away, hoping that it would avoid the blow. A loud, but muffled, scream erupted as the bat clashed hard against something… but the scream wasn't Stiles. Stiles turned towards Lydia and saw a large bruise already appearing on her knee cap. She was sobbing loudly and desperately trying to reach her tied down hands to caress her knee. The bat rose again, crashing down onto the same knee and earning another scream of pain. A sudden rage spiralled inside Stiles' head. He noticed Jackson's pattern of looking over his shoulder to see what his reaction was after a hit and quickly formed a plan.

Stiles lay limp, closing his eyes. H let his tip-toe drop and all of his weight to fall onto his wrists. He internally cringed as he heard the clang and familiar scream but stayed limp. He heard Jackson call out his name and then footsteps coming towards him when he didn't answer. He fought not to react as the tape was ripped off of his mouth. He only reacted when he felt hands slap hard against his cheeks, pretending that he had been unconscious.

"Thought I'd lost you for a second there buddy", Jackson grinned, his face inches from Stiles'.

"You forgot", Stiles whispered, feeling Jackson's presence come close to him.

"I forgot what?" Jackson muttered with a slight hint of irritation.

"The bats _my_ weapon" Stiles told him louder and threw his legs upwards, wrapping them around Jacksons waist and turning.

Jackson fell to the ground at the surprise impact and Stiles twisted off the hook on the ceiling. He landed on his feet and lunged down, picking up the bat before Jackson could even react properly and bashed it hard against his skull over and over again, and letting out most of his rage until there was barely anything left on Jacksons neck.

Stiles dropped the bat to the ground and panted hard, trying to catch the breath he had just wasted. Hearing Lydia's small sob behind him brought him back on track with the mission and he instantly ran over to her and pulled the tape off her mouth and then released her arms.

Lydia threw her arms around him, pulling him close to her and sobbing onto his shoulder. He returned the embrace – she probably didn't know it, but he needed it more than she did.

"I'm sorry I did that in front of you", Stiles glanced back over his shoulder at Jackson's body.

"It's okay. That bastard got exactly what was coming to him", Lydia had a hard, unremorseful expression, "Let's get out of here, please"

Stiles agreed; he didn't really want to get into a fight with Jason while Lydia was still here and could be put in danger. Lydia tried to stand but yelped loudly and fell back down again, grabbing hold of her knee.

"I think it's broken", she winced, a tear rolling down her cheeks. Stiles pulled her to feet and wrapped her arm over his shoulder, practically lifting her completely off the ground as he led her towards the door.


	15. Caught

Stiles pressed his ear against the door to listen for anybody the other side while still holding Lydia upright.

"Aren't you going to take that out?" she gestured towards the blade that was still in his shoulder from when Jason that thrown it at him.

"No, keeping it in means less blood. At least until I can get help", he explained briefly as he waited for the footsteps on the other side of the door to go past.

After waiting for a few extra seconds to make sure the coast was clear he opened the door and quickly pulled Lydia in the direction that he had come from in the first place. Lydia tried to be quick but he could tell by the wince on her face that she was hurting and he slowed down.

His shoulder started to ache from the metal stuck in there but he fought through the pain, taking all of Lydia's weight as he walked. He leant against the wall as he heard the sound of people talking around the corner. Not wanting to remove the blade that was embedded deep in his skin, he searched his surroundings for anything he could use as a weapon that wouldn't cause alert.

Stiles noticed a large metal pole lying next to the wall opposite and he unwrapped Lydia's arm from him, crouching down to pick it up. He looked over to Lydia, who had a terrified expression, and he placed his index finger against his lips. She nodded and he bit her bottom lip as Stiles lay flat against the wall and listened.

"I'm gonna go and grab the walkie", one guy told the other and was met with a grunt of approval.

He waited for a while until he heard a door open and close again signalling that one of the men had gone inside. He breathed in and then silently approached the guy standing with his back to him, the pole raised in front of him – he didn't want to smack the guy with it and create noise but his shoulder was too weak to do much by hand, so he had to be creative.

He stopped inches behind the guy and pushed the pole against his throat, pulling it hard towards him until he heard a snap to tell him the guy's neck was broken. He let him fall onto the ground and then immediately barged into the room he had heard the next guy go into; he knew that he was most likely going to come out again and see the guy Stiles had just killed, then alert Jason.

The guy just on the other side of the door, about to come back out. He swore loudly as Stiles kicked his chest and he fell backwards onto the floor. Stiles raised the pole high above his head and then brought it back down again with all of the force he could muster. The guy's head smashed under the pole and Stiles dropped it, gripping around the knife in his shoulder as pain from the effort shot through his whole arm.

When he caught his breath again, he headed back over to Lydia who was still leant against the wall. Her knee was now bright purple and the bone was leaning towards the left more than it should have been. He quickly wrapped her around him again and led her past the men that were now dead on the floor – he didn't bother moving them; they would be found anyway and so it was a waste of time.

They finally reached the door to the basement he had broken in to and he threw the door open, practically running in there; he couldn't get out of this place fast enough. The pushed hard against wooden back door but it wouldn't open. The body was also gone off the floor so they had most likely come in here, moved the body and locked the door again. Stiles sighed dived into his pockets, searching for the lock pick. It was gone – of course it was, Jason had taken everything.

Groaning loudly, he released Lydia from his grip and picked up a large brick. He briefly glanced at Lydia to make sure she was okay before standing in a good position to smash the door open and holding the brick tightly.

"Stop!" a familiar voice shouted at him. Stiles stood still, holding the brick in mid-air and not moving it. "Put it down!" Jason screamed.

Stiles dropped the brick to the floor and slowly turned to face to him. Jason was stood with his arm out directly in front of him, a pistol aimed at Stiles' head in his hand. Lydia stepped closer to him and intertwined her fingers with his.

"I'm sorry but I thought I made it clear that you wouldn't be leaving?" Jason had a smile of his lips but his eyes were vengeful. His eyes darted between Stiles and Lydia a few times before settling back on Stiles. Stiles remained calm; he wasn't afraid of his own death, only Lydia's but Jason's finger wasn't anywhere near the trigger and the gun was still pointed at him.

"Just let her go", he muttered, "Look just kill me, I don't care anymore. Just let her go please". Lydia's hand gripped his tighter and felt her eyes glaring at him against his cheek.

"I know you aren't afraid of death my friend", he moved the gun over to face Lydia, "I have a punishment worse than that for you"

Stiles started to panic, "Hey, what are you doing?" he shouted. Lydia's hand fell out of his as she whimpered loudly at the sight of the guns barrel directed at her.

"I like you, Stiles. I'm not going to kill you, you can go. You still need to be punished though" his grin widened.

"Why?" Stiles felt a tear run down his cheek as the thought of losing Lydia.

"You killed four of my men… or is it six now?" the grin turned into a hard, cold stare.

"Hey look, I'm sorry okay? I'm sorry!" Stiles begged. Jason looked down as he thought for a moment and then looked back up, his stare even harder. "Too late"

Stiles quickly grabbed hold of the handle on the blade in his shoulder as Jason's finger moved towards the trigger. In one quick and painful tug, the knife was out and he threw it at Jason. It embedded deep into his head and he fell to the floor, dropping the gun.

Stiles breathed out heavy breaths, ignoring the stream of blood now coming out of his shoulder and running down his chest.

"Stiles", Lydia whispered next to him. He turned to face her and the blood immediately ran out of his face – a circle of red liquid was growing around a gunshot wound on Lydia's stomach.


	16. I Love You

_Sorry I didn't upload yesterday, I was unbelievably busy. The next chapter will be the last on I'm afraid! :( Please don't kill me for this chapter, it was really hard to write :'( also, get well soon Dylan! I'm actually crying, I love him so much :'(_

Stiles wrapped his arms around Lydia as she fell, giving her a softer landing. His heart had stopped beating the minute he saw Lydia's condition and he couldn't breathe. He laid her gently against the wall and picked up the brick, smashing it against the locked wooden door as hard as he could but it wouldn't open. His fingers started to bleed and his shoulder was aching and the door still wouldn't budge. He broke down to the ground, screaming in frustration while tears pooled down his face – he was losing his mind.

Stiles quickly pulled out his phone and dialled Scott's number. He answered pretty much straight away.

"Stiles I just got to the house and Lydia's not there, have you heard from her?" Scott questioned with concern in his tone. Stiles explained to him what had happened to Lydia and told him where they were, "I'm on my way, Stiles I'll come as fast as I can!" Scott told him and then they both hung up the phone. Stiles crouched down next to Lydia.

"Scott's on his way, you're going to be okay", he reassured her, brushing her hair behind her ear as he felt another hot tear run down his cheeks.

"I won't make it that long will I?" she closed her eyed tightly and whimpered in fear; she was slowly dying and they were trapped in a basement.

"Lydia don't talk like that, Scott's coming and we're gonna get this door open", he told her but she didn't stop crying.

"What about getting to the hospital, will I make it that long?" she opened her eyes again and looked into his. He nodded but he didn't trust himself to speak, just in case his tone showed her that he wasn't so sure. "Stiles hold me, please", she started to sob gently as reached out to him with her hand. Stiles feared that Lydia was right about Scott being too late; by the looks of the way she was bleeding, Jason had shot her through at least four arteries and she was bleeding out quickly. Scott needed to seriously hurry if they wanted to save her.

"Okay", he tried to hold back his tears as best as he could as he moved her so that her head lay on his knees; he wanted to seem strong for her right now so that she wouldn't be as scared. He ran his fingers soothingly through her hair as she lay against him, looking up at him.

"Thank you", she smiled at him, her face pale and wet with tears but still managing to look beautiful. He let out an involuntary gulp of tears but quickly held them back again.

"There's nothing to thank me for Lydia. It's my fault we're in this situation; if I had just stayed at the house with you I could have prevented this… I could have protected you"

"It's okay, it's all okay", she moved her hand weakly up to his cheek and gently brushed it, "It was worth it"

"No, Lydia"

"Yes", she cut him off, "I love you. I love you so much"

He paused for a moment; if he said the words then it would seem like he was getting ready for her to die and he wasn't! On the other hand, if she did die he wanted her to know it. "I love you too", he finally told her and he couldn't stop the tears from pouring down his cheeks, "Please stay with me Lydia, I need you!" he sobbed.

She opened her mouth but no words came out. She breathed in and out rapidly for a few seconds and then her eyes slowly drifted closed and her hand fell away from his cheek, hitting the floor. He could feel her whole body go limp against him. Stiles panicked, softly gripping her face and gently shaking it.

"No… no Lydia come on", he exhorted, "Lydia wake up. Come on Lydia, Scott will be here soon just open your eyes… Lydia, open your eyes!" he yelled, frustration and grief washing over his body.

Realizing she wasn't going to wake up, he pulled her body against his chest and bawled loudly, letting all of the emotion he had held back for her leave his body. He could hear the door behind him being ripped off its hinges but he didn't make any move towards the door, he didn't even look at it. His eyes were focused on Lydia's face.

"Stiles!" Scott called from behind him and light flooded the dim basement. He sensed Scott appear next to him and a few moments later he placed his hand onto Stiles' shoulder in sympathy. Stiles finally turned to look at his best friend, fresh tears sliding out of his eyes. Scott quickly knelt down and pulled him into a tight hug.

Stiles cried again against Scott's shoulder. He couldn't help but think back to when his mother had died and Scott had been there for him then too. Stiles had lost both of the most important women in his life and he was close to braking, close to giving up – he would have done if not for Scott and his Dad. Every time Stiles looked over to Lydia, his heart smashed even more but he couldn't stop looking at her; she was his entire word, she always had been.

"Stiles we have to go", Scott whispered to him.

"We can't just leave her here!" Stiles shouted at his friend. He wasn't angry at him; it was just part of the grieving.

"I know, I wasn't asking you to", Scott replied with sadness in his voice.

After sitting silently and caressing her body for a few more minutes, Stiles finally stood up and picked her body up in his arms. He carried it out of the basement, the sunlight blinding him but he couldn't even manage to squint. He gently placed her in the back of Scott's car, brushing her hair behind her ear one more time and then sitting in the passenger seat. Scott got into his side and started the vehicle. The journey was completely silent as Stiles thought about all of the memories him and Lydia had together, making his eyes burn as he tried not to cry again.


	17. Memories

_I know this hasn't been a very long story but it never was going to be, sorry :) This is the final chapter and I'm so sorry for the turn this story took :'( I hope you have enjoyed my story, thank you for reading 3 by the way the bits in italic during this chapter are going back to before Lydia's funeral_

Stiles pushed his way to the front of the crowd of people dressed in black. The sky was warm and sunny but Stiles felt dark and cold on the inside. He saw Lydia's father stood across from him and a twang of anger burst through him – her dad was a terrible guy who used to beat her and her mom. He knew he couldn't do anything though; if he did then they would kick him out of the funeral and he couldn't handle that right now, he needed to be with her.

Stiles barely heard the speeches being given and he ignored every single one of the 'I'm so sorry' remarks that were fired towards him. He felt numb inside but he didn't cry when he threw a handful of earth onto her casket. He didn't even retaliate when the pot of ashes was given to her father instead of him – he knew that she wasn't in the pot; he had made sure of it.

 _"I can't let him have her", Stiles whispered to Scott as they looked at the pot of ashes that used to be Lydia._

 _"He's her father, you don't have a choice", Scott answered and gently patted his friend on the back in sympathy._

 _"No, he's not", Stiles looked at his friend with a deeply serious expression._

 _"What do you mean?" Scott furrowed his eyebrows in confusion to the statement._

 _"He's just a gene donor… that guy was never her father", Stiles explained._

 _They both looked at each other for a few minutes and then Scott nodded at him, giving him his support in the crime he was about to commit. Stiles came the next day before the funeral with a metal jar and grabbed a handful of grey, dry dirt from outside. He tipped Lydia into the spare jar and then funnelled the dirt into the other one. He then left the scene and headed to Lydia's favourite park, where her funeral was taking place._

Stiles left halfway through the funeral and got into the truck he had decided to keep; it reminded him of how much of a good person she was. He started the vehicles engine and then began the long journey back to his mom's old safe-house, where he could be with Lydia forever.

 _Stiles was early to the funeral and that was his plan. He had arranged to meet Scott there and have a mini funeral of their own without everyone else. They sat silently around her casket, reminiscing the times they had spent together – even Scott had known her for a while, they were good friends when Stiles had dated her the first time. At 10:00am it was half an hour until the people would start to arrive for the actual funeral._

 _"Stiles come on lets go", Scott stood up and gently touched his shoulder. Stiles stayed sat down._

 _"I'm going to stay for a bit of the funeral I think", she eventually decided._

 _"And then you're going home?" Scott asked wearily but he already suspected the answer that Stiles was going to give him._

 _"I'm going back to the house", Stiles looked at Scott's tearful eyes and his own tears started to well up; he would really miss Scott but he wanted to get out of Beacon Hills and start fresh, he couldn't get a job there._

 _Scott nodded and Stiles stood up, pulling his best friend into a hug. They didn't say anything as they both cried for a little while and then Scott left, again without saying another word; there were no words to express how much they would miss each other, so silence was the best option. They both knew how they felt._

The next day, Stiles pulled onto the gravel outside the house and the memory of Lydia stood on the doorstep wrapped in nothing but a bed sheet flooded his brain. He took a sharp intake of breath and exited the truck. He took the jar of ashes out of the boot and headed inside the building. He could still smell the perfume she used to wear in every room and her things were littered around all over the place.

Tears started to drip down his cheeks as he wandered around the house. He entered the kitchen and remembered her stood there while he cooked. He stepped into the living room and the memory of sitting next to her on the sofa eating gummy worms surfaced. Each room gave him a new memory as he entered it and then finally he got to the bedroom. He almost broke down as he thought about the time they spent together in there, the night when they were 'together' before he went a ruined it all by leaving her.

He ambled back into the living room and over to the fire place, reaching up and placing the jar onto the flat surface. He stood back and admired his new possession and smiled as he thought how lucky he was to have ever known Lydia Martin.


End file.
